Ardbeg 10yo
Official bottling - 2022 | 46% ABV
Score: 7/10
Very Good Indeed.
TL;DR
Rock (pool) solid. A classic for a reason
The Butterfly Effect
I hail from the beautiful country of France, the land of wine, Cognac, Calvados, Armagnac, and many more marvellous adventures in fermented and distilled taste. So why has whisky become my drink of choice?
Well, the fact that 98% of Cognac is exported and that Calvados and Armagnac have no huge brand that might lead the way marketingwise, and are therefore non-existent on mainstream shelves, might have something to do with it. And to be fair, I like wine, in fact I really like wine, but that’s not the subject I want to explore in the written form.
Taste has always been an important part of my education. I grew up in the countryside and my mom cooked beautiful soups from vegetables plucked from my grandfather’s garden everyday. We seldom went for fast foods, preferring local restaurants which made everything from fresh produce. My granny used to cook enormous amounts of delicious food every time we visited. You get the picture; I learned how to taste from a young age.
When I started to drink alcohol, mainly beer at the time, I very quickly wanted to have some semblance of quality in my glass (okay, plastic cup). I veered towards tasty, craft beers, rather than industrial über-lagers. I still, for example, have a vivid memory of the first IPA I tried - back when they were actually bitter. I’m also of a quite obsessive nature. When something interests me, I want to know everything about it: its history, how it’s made and where. I love learning. So I duly started geeking out about beer: Belgian, German, then British and American styles, cereals, yeasts, you name it.
I drank whisky occasionally, but mostly cheap bourbons and blends augmented by a healthy dose of sugary dark brown bubbly liquid. That also quickly became unsatisfying. In wanting to make my party drinks better, I started to develop an interest for mixology. So I geeked out on cocktails.
I learned about the history, Harry McElhone, Harry Craddock, Prohibition, then the tiki tsunami of the 40’s and 50’s (Martin and Rebecca Cate’s Smuggler’s Cove is a great read if you’re interested in such things), Don the beachcomber, Vic Bergeron, the fluorescent 80’s and 90’s, up to the cocktail renaissance of the early 2000’s led by Sasha Petraske and his staff at the now defunct Milk & Honey bar in New York. I wholeheartedly recommend reading Sasha’s posthumous book Regarding Cocktails, it is simply brilliant, and a beautiful object.
To someone learning the ways to create a great mixed drink, the understanding of spirits is paramount. How they are made, why they taste different to one another, how they mingle together once put in the mixing glass, is there a difference between an unaged rum and a white rum (hint: there is, and it can be a big one), how is bourbon different from rye and scotch? And so, the itch had to be scratched.
Then there’s my dad.
He pretty much always liked having whisky when we hosted people at our house. However I guess you could say he was not as educated a drinker as you probably are, dear reader, as he was happy with Jameson or the occasional Monkey Shoulder. He made me try those, and if I did not hate them, I certainly wasn’t hooked, yet. He wasn’t particularly hooked either to be perfectly honest. It was just a drink he liked to have from time to time. That is until he had his first try of a proper, unadulterated single malt scotch whisky.
The fateful tasting happened for him on his first trip to the promised land, at a bar called The Printing Press, in Edinburgh. The barman made him try an Ardbeg 10. He liked it so much that he bought a bottle at the airport, which was rinsed quickly, before several more over the course of the following months. He also made me try it.
I remember that even clearer than my first IPA. The smoke! The smell filled the room the second the bottle was opened. It was then I put my nose in a Glencairn for the first time; a gesture I would become very familiar with. It was a sudden revelation. I could discern something in whiskey; a proper tasting note. Whisky does not just taste like whisky anymore. I was but a raft drifting in a vast ocean of possibilities, and, by chance, I was tossed a lifeline tied to the south shore of Islay.
I ended up visiting Edinburgh for the first time the next year, with my dad, to go and see a France versus Scotland rugby game. Another common passion. We lost the game, but came back to The Printing Press, where, fun little nugget for those in the know, we stumbled upon French rugby icon André Herrero. I remember having a well made Last Word, as well as my first sherried malt experience in the form of Glenfarclas 15. This short weekend trip only further fueled this deep and of course ongoing love I have for Scotland and its national drink.
Quickly after that, the pandemic hit. My job in tourism suddenly became very unnecessary with the subsequent lockdowns. I didn’t have much, but I did have an internet connection; obsessive learning mode activated. I learned everything I could about whisky, discovered the WhiskyTube scene, especially Roy’s vPubs over on Aqvavitae. I read books, listened to podcasts and took all I could get my hands on. Whisky helped me venture through these tumultuous times, even though I could hardly afford to buy anything but a single bottle of NAS Bowmore, which I carefully nursed. A lifeline.
After the world started spinning again, I found myself in need of a change of career. As it happened, with the help of my other half I found a curriculum to learn a very French job; a caviste. If you don’t know, it simply means wine shop clerk, and it’s the perfect occupation for me. It allows me to meet new people, inside and outside of the industry, taste things I could have never have otherwise hoped to and, most importantly maybe, it allows me to learn, virtually without end.
I became an avid wine enthusiast, and my propension for whisky led me to be in charge of buying all spirits for the three shops we have. I also started teaching soon-to-be cavistes about whisky and other spirits in the very same classroom I used to attend. I am now lucky to be doing exactly what I want to do. I spend my days preaching about whiskies, wines and beers that I love, and I am truly blessed to call it my job.
All of this, because a bartender in Edinburgh handed my dad a Glencairn of Ardbeg 10.
Edward Norton Lorenz’s work on chaos theory states; Does the flap of a butterfly's wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?
That glass of Ardbeg is my butterfly, flapping its wings. The last three years of my life have been shaped by this moment. If that bartender instead handed my dad a Glenfiddich 12 or Johnny Walker Black, I might not be writing these lines right now. I’m not saying these are bad whiskies, but they are of the type that didn’t have much impact on me or my dad. Ardbeg did.
Whisky has been a guide, it has now led me to discover endless variations of smell and taste: the robustness of the Highlands, the freshness of the new Lowlanders, the power of sherry casks, the sweetness of virgin oak, the delicateness of a pristine distillate left in refill wood, innovations coming from the likes of India, Tasmania or the United States as well as - of course! -my local French whisky scene. It has allowed me to learn a lot about myself, about the importance of patience, integrity, and passion.
To paraphrase our own Dougie, “Isn’t whisky brilliant?”
My journey isn’t over. It’s just the beginning, and the storm is raging.
Review
Ardbeg 10yo, Official bottling, date code: 19/08/2022 46% ABV
€50 (£43) paid. Widely available.
I’m sure many of you will have tasted this malt before in your own whisky journey, and might even have a bottle at home right now. The point of this review is not really to guide you if you are looking to purchase an Islay single malt. This is mainly an excuse for me to indulge in a bit of nostalgia. I invite you to join me on this tasting, if you fancy, and if indeed you possess a bottle of your own.
This whisky is non chill-filtered, as is proudly stated on the label, though no such statement is made about colouring. Judging by its very pale hue, one can assume none is added, but it would be nice if it was clearly stated.
Score: 7/10
Very Good Indeed.
TL;DR
Rock (pool) solid. A classic for a reason
Nose
Immediately smoky. Campfire smoke in the morning. Saline, mineral, with melting tar on a hot day. There is also lemon in the form of a creamy lemon pie. Oyster shells. The nose is really well put together and really brings to mind images of a cold beach.
Palate
Stays very much on peat smoke, with creamy smoked lemon. Minerality shows on the palate as well, with the feeling of licking wet rock. Tar is ramped up. A delicate saltiness is consistent throughout the tasting experience. This whisky isn’t the most full bodied, which may have something to do with Ardbeg’s famous purifiers, though it is no problem considering the above average complexity at this age and price point. Lingering smoke in the finish of course.
The Dregs
Aside from the nostalgia I have associated with this whisky, I must say it is a beautifully crafted dram. It is not the most complex whisky, but it is pristine, pure and, as said just before, above average for its price and age bracket, in my opinion at least. Probably between a 6 and 7/10 tasting experience, but considering the price, it easily meets the 7/10 threshold.
As long as it stays at this price, it will remain a staple in my home bar, as I’m sure is the case with many of you readers. If you haven’t tried it yet, I strongly recommend you do, bank account/shelf space/significant other permitting.
Finally, as a reward for reading all this, I’ve decided I’ll give you a link to a song at the end of each of my reviews, because why limit yourself to one passion? Let’s start with Fleetwood Mac, because it seems fitting to pair one classic with another.
Santé.
Score: 7/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. AF
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Other opinions on this:
Dramface (2022 vs Fermutation)
Ralfy (2019)
Whiskybase
Liquorhound
Got a link to a reliable review? Tell us.
